Lou's Life Chap 8 "Lessons"

Classes suck! As every college student knows there are some classes you love and some you hate. I happen to be of the opinion that there are many ways to learn things, and not all of them involve a classroom. Like my American Literature class, since I am older than all of the documents we are studying, not only have I already read all the stories, I probably knew the author personally. Like for example, this semester we are studying "Twenty Great American Short Stories" One story we are studying is "The Lottery" by Shirley Jackson. Shirley and I went to Syracuse University together and were in the same graduating class in 1940.

I remember her as being a very morose young lady. I enjoyed her perverse sense of humor very much and we were great friends. I always get the question "What did the author mean by this story?" correct on the test. I know what the author thought when she wrote it because she told me what she was thinking while writing it. By the way, I was the one that gave her the idea to use stoning as her method of killing. She wanted to write it that the entire village just attacked that poor woman, with their bare hands or clubs. But Quinn and I were stoned once in 1685 in a small village in Italy for being "diavolo strega". It's a very interesting perspective to have on the situation. Classes like these ones are the ones I sleep through. Even though vampires don't sleep.

There are classes that require me to study like crazy. This year I am taking Criminal Law and Procedure courses, and my Forensic Psychiatry class is really tough. Think of it as a criminal using an insanity plea to escape prosecution, we study right to treatment and right to refuse treatment, competency to stand trial, and criminal responsibility. I sorta like it because it combines my knowledge of psychiatry and my knowledge of the law. Plus the field trips to mental health facilities to do case studies are always fun. You and I have completely different perspectives on what is considered to be the determining factors for sane and insane. It just further proves my point that you humans always fear and hate people you do not understand, who aren't exactly "normal". But I will save the insanity discussion for another day. I thought about how this class is kicking my rear, and how my study habits have changed over the last 400 years.

I picked up the torch in the sconce right outside the door, and made my way down the path. I heard Quinn close the door behind me, so I knew he was following. I made my way down the path which was smooth and surprisingly easy to traverse. I had expected it to be rough, rocky terrain. I could see light up ahead and hear loud talking as we came to the gypsy's chamber. I saw a large room, about twice the size of Quinn's main room. It really only had the two sides, because the front wall was dominated by a large portal. Through the leaves and the vines that must provide cover for the outside, I saw the sunlight and could actually hear birds chirping. I was so excited to be going outside. I entered and put the torch in the sconce beside the opening on mine and Quinn's end of the big room and all conversation ceased. I turned around. They were all staring at me, every head turned in my direction.

The Gitan. I guessed there to be 20-25 of them. They sat around in small clusters, a few sitting on upturned crates at a small table with playing cards in their hands. Some were sitting on bedrolls, lounging and smoking cheroot pipes. The other side of the room was taken up by large stacks and piles of chests, crates and trunks, with a few hammocks stuffed in between. An old Grand-mère was in the center of the room, slowly stirring a cooking pot over a campfire.

These dirty, scruffy, migrant men looked at me like I had sprouted three heads and a tail. I knew what I looked like to them. I tried to put them at ease. "Bonne journée, Messieurs aimables !", Good day, kind sirs, I tried in French. They still just sat and looked at me. I was unsure what to do. I started to just walk past them to the entrance of the cave. I had taken about five steps when the Grand-mère looked up from her cooking and noticed me standing at the back of the chamber. The moment she spotted me, she looked me up and down, took in the blood, the mussed hair, the dirty pale skin and came running towards me, brandishing her ladle like a sword. She looked furious and she was yelling as she ran. "Dumnezeule! Un diavol vrajitoare! Nu vei blestem casa mea sau familia mea! Plecati raului spiritul! O mie injuraturi pe tine!". Quinn stepped in front of me, and shielded me behind him.

The Grand-mère came to a stop as soon as she approached Quinn, and she lowered her ladle. She was glowering around Quinn's shoulder at me. He gently touched her shoulder, she looked up at him with a smile and I came around him enough to see his face. He was smiling down at her, like she was his own grandmother and he truly cared for her. "Bunica buna! Acest copil este sub protectia mea si ea inseamna ca nici un rau. Ea s-a murdarit ea insasi de sacrificarea unei caprioare. Ea are nevoie de baie. Va rog, fie la pace." he said in the same foreign language I didn't understand. She looked back at me, gave me an evil, hate filled look, spat at the ground at my feet, and walked back to her pot. She proceeded to completely ignore us as we walked out of the cave. Lesson One: Never Enter The Gypsy Chamber Without Quinn.

Once we got outside, Quinn took the lead. He knew where we were going, so it just made sense for me to follow. Plus, it gave me time to look around. This is the first time I had been outside since my capture. I was amazed by how much the scenery had changed. From what I remembered, when I was taken it was early April, the trees were just beginning to bud with leaves. Now I looked around and noticed that the leaves were changing colors. It was still warm like summer, but it couldn't be Fall, could it? It was actually nice walking down this path with Quinn. It was a beautiful sunny day and because of my new senses, I had my nose stuck up in the air.

The smells were amazing. I could smell so much more than when I was human. The trees, the damp earth, the flowers, the breeze, everything had an incredible smell. A squirrel came down the branch above us, chattering at us for disturbing him. I looked up and could actually hear his tiny heart beating, so fast it was a hum. I was so entranced by him that I didn't watch my feet and tripped over a tree root in the path. Before I knew what was happening, I was hurtling towards the ground. I dropped my dress and everything in my hands. As I landed in the dirt, I was more embarrassed than I was actually hurt. I heard laughter. I looked up to see Quinn standing there with his head thrown back in a deep laugh. "Amazing, a clumsy vampire.

Now, I truly have seen everything!" He bent to pick me up and set me on my feet. He got me standing, then proceeded to brush off my dress, like a father does to his child when she falls. As he straightened, we both realized how closely we were standing. His hands were on my elbows, and my hands were on his chest. As I looked up through my lashes at him, I thought he had the most unusual look on his face. Very intense, like he was studying me. He started to lean in towards me, then abruptly stopped. He released me so fast I almost fell again, and he took off walking down the path again.

I scrambled to pick up my dress and soap. I practically had to run to catch up with Quinn, he was marching down the path so fast. We walked for several minutes without speaking. I had to say something to break the tension. "Quinn, do you know what day it is?
"Yes, if I'm not mistaken, I believe it's Monday"
"Do you know what month it is?"
"September"

"How long has it been since, um, you know, gave me the Gift?"
"So, now you consider it a Gift, do you? I thought you didn't want this Gift." Quinn stopped, turned around and waited for me to respond.
"I'm still not sure I want it. But, since you didn't leave it up to me to choose if I wanted it or not, I guess I have no choice to do the best I can with what pieces of my life you have left me with. I'm just trying to make it the best way I know how"

Quinn faced forward and started walking again. "It's been 4 months, 16 days and 9 hours. And I know what it's like to not be given a choice, I wasn't given one either. I'm sorry for doing it that way, it was the only way I knew how.

I only thought of my own need for a companion, not of you being allowed to make a choice. I also know that unless you want to bathe in the dark, you will make haste" He increased his pace to be in front of me again. For a moment, just a brief moment, I had seen tenderness and much sadness in his eyes. But as soon as it was there, it was gone, his eyes turned back to blue ice. I considered his reaction. He had counted the days down to the hour since I had been changed? Why would he do that? And how had I sat in that cave for FOUR MONTHS and not realized that much time had went by? He must have been waiting, trying to wait patiently for me to accept this, counting the days until I would be ready to join him. Lesson Two: Sometimes Dragons Have A Soft Underbelly.